


What Can Start with a Whisper - The First Night

by xBlackxRosexRebellionx



Series: What Can Start with a Whisper [1]
Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time Sexual Experimentation, No Actual Non-Con or Rape But It Came Close, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Part of a Three Part Series, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBlackxRosexRebellionx/pseuds/xBlackxRosexRebellionx
Summary: Jenelle has been held hostage at the Hewitt house for some months now. Luda Mae has got it in her head that she wants grandbabies and, knowing that Hoyt is too old to produce any of his own now, this leaves the task up to Tommy. After dinner one night, Hoyt takes Tommy aside and informs Tommy how to go about making babies. Then he turns him loose. Jenelle is both shocked and frightened by the prospect of becoming pregnant with Tommy's child. But she knows that there is no stopping Tommy if he gets something in his head. So, she figures that teaching him the ropes is the lesser of two evils than him taking her by force. She never anticipates to actually feel pleasure at the hands of such a brutish man, however, and she is beginning to learn that there is much more to Thomas than she originally thought.
Relationships: Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/Original Female Character(s)
Series: What Can Start with a Whisper [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877296
Kudos: 51





	What Can Start with a Whisper - The First Night

_So, while I didn’t originally intend for it to be, this is one-shot is designed to be part one of a group of one-shots written about Tommy and Jenelle. I had actually thought that this would be the only story I wrote about these two characters. But, with the way that I left things off in this one – not that there’s a cliff hanger though – I knew that I was going to be writing more about this pairing. So, this is just the first installment, designed to introduce the characters and their plight, to set things up for future one-shots about this unlikely couple._

_Also, just a little side note: I tried to get that southern drawl down, but we all know that writing an accent – and portraying it accurately – can be much harder than it sounds._

_I will be very clear that this Texas Chainsaw Massacre story focuses on Thomas Brown Hewitt’s version of Leatherface. I am basing his character and his personality traits off of Andrew Bryniarski’s portrayal of the character in the reboot of the franchise. While I really enjoyed the remake and the prequel to the original franchise, I felt like there was SO much more that they could have told us about Tommy’s character and his backstory. My favorite movie of the series was the 2006 Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, due to the fact that it was the first chance that we really got a look into Leatherface’s origins and how he came to be. I loved the fact that they delved into his history, how he was found as a baby and what medical conditions he suffered from that caused him to want to cover his face from the world. I also felt like a got a much deeper understanding of his character from watching how the Hewitts treated Tommy. I think that is ultimately what shaped him into the villain that we saw in the movies – although, to be fair, given Tommy’s mental state, I don’t really know if he knew that what he was doing was wrong. But I digress._

_I loved the 2003 and 2006 Texas Chainsaw movies so much that I wanted to do a story on Thomas’s character. And this is what my freaky little brain came up with…_

****

**_What Can Start with a Whisper_ **

**_The First Night_ **

_With a whisper tonight (tell me right now)  
These thoughts that no one else should hear  
Cut through my lips, dance in your ear  
Till light (lay me on down)   
Comes burnin' through that window pane  
Your hair's painting that pillow case_

_  
Answer me baby with nothing but your body  
Your hands got a crazy way of talkin' naughty  
Let the other side of these walls  
The ups and downs of these halls, oh  
Hear what can start with a whisper_

Jenelle picked at the food on her plate, chasing a piece of what looked like roast around with her fork. She’d eaten her potatoes and the corn that Luda Mae had fixed but she wasn’t sure how she felt about eating meat, not now that she knew what kind of meat it was that the Hewitt family ate.

She swallowed hard as she gazed down at the meat on her plate.

“It won’t bite, dear,” Luda told her gently from across the table.

Thomas was sitting beside her and she saw him peering at her from the corner of her eye. He gave a slow, encouraging nod towards her plate, gesturing for her to try it. After all, he’d gone through the trouble of butchering some poor soul so that Luda Mae could make her Sunday roast.

Jenelle swallowed hard once more at just the thought but she sliced off a piece of meat and stabbed it with her fork, slowly lifting it up to her mouth. Four sets of eyes were fixed on her as she slowly chewed the meat. And, much to her surprise, the meat wasn’t as horrid as she’d anticipated. In fact, it was tender, slightly sweeter than a pork roast. She was quick to shove that thought to the back of her mind though, not wanting to dwell on it for fear that she’d wind up spewing the contents of her stomach right onto her mostly-empty plate.

She took another bite. And then another. And, soon, her plate was empty.

“See?” Hoyt spoke from his place at the head of the table, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Jenelle simply swallowed but wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“All right. Well, that was a nice meal,” Luda announced, pushing herself up from the table, “Jenelle, dear, why don’t you help me collect the dishes and wash them. I think Hoyt has something he wants ta talk ta Tommy about before you two head ta bed.”

Jenelle’s cinnamon colored orbs grew real wide and she turned her head to gaze at first Thomas and then Hoyt.

She swallowed hard once more, this time for a completely different reason.

“Come along now, dear,” Luda coaxed, walking around the table to gently pat Jenelle’s shoulder.

Jenelle pushed herself to her feet, reaching out to take Thomas’s plate and stack it on top of hers, placing their used silverware on top of it. She was just preparing to lift the dirty dishes from the table when Thomas’s hand darted out to wrap around her wrist, his large palm and long, thick fingers wrapping around her delicate wrist as he dragged her hand up to his face, rubbing her palm against the side of his cheek, her palm meeting the crude, brown leather mask that covered the lower half of his face.

Jenelle’s eyes grew wide as Thomas’s pale blue ones drifted shut, his head tilting slightly to press himself more firmly against her hand. He let out a low purr of appreciation and Jenelle tried to ease her hand back, only for him to tighten his grip around her wrist.

She was thankful when Luda Mae interrupted the moment, her voice soft even as she chided, “Now, Tommy, you let her go. She’s gotta help with the dishes. You go on into the front room now, ya hear? Hoyt’s gonna have a little talk with ya.”

Thomas’s eyes fluttered open, his dark brows furrowing, but he hung his head, those long, dark brown curls falling into his pale eyes as he gave a slow nod and released Jenelle’s wrist from his grasp.

“That’s better,” Luda praised before addressing Jenelle once more, “Come along now, dear. We don’t have all night.”

Jenelle stole a glance over in Hoyt’s direction just in time to catch that slow, sly smirk that stretched across his scruffy face. A shudder ripped down her spine as his eyes slowly traveled down the length of her small frame and she quickly diverted her attention back to the dishes.

She felt Thomas’s eyes on her as well as she moved around the table, collecting the used dishes. Those haunting, crystal orbs never left her as she scurried around the dining room, trying to busy herself to distract herself from her racing thoughts. She happened to steal a glance over in Thomas’s direction as she gathered Monty’s dishes and found that his dark brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly as he studied her, observing her from his seat across the table. His eyes never left her as she carried the dishes into the kitchen.

When she entered the dining room once more, she made her way over to Hoyt’s place at the table, her footsteps faltering slightly in her hesitation.

She saw the lecherous grin on Hoyt’s face as she bent over to gather his dishes and she felt him leaning closer to her, snuffling loudly before he asked, “Mmm _mmm!_ Don’t she smell perty, Tommy?”

Thomas snarled, leaning closer to Hoyt as he narrowed those keen, pale eyes at Hoyt over the top of his mask, the low, rumbling growl serving as a firm warning. Hoyt’s bushy eyebrows rose, his eyes widening slightly, but he gave a slow nod and rested back in his chair.

Jenelle was quick to move to the other side of the table, closer to Thomas and further away from Hoyt, as she finished stacking his dishes. Thomas rested back in his seat but she caught his large hands clenching into fists on either side of his chair out of the corner of her eye.

On her final trip to the dining room, she had just picked up his glass when she heard Hoyt inform Thomas, “Come on, Tommy. Ol’ Hoyt’s gonna give ya a little lesson on how ta make babies so you can start practicin’ with Jenny over there. Mama wants those grandbabies just as soon as she can pop ‘em out, ya know.”

Jenelle’s eyes grew wide, her mouth forming a perfect “O”, and her grip on the glass slipped, causing it to fall onto the table and spill the remaining ice chips onto the table cloth.

“Shit!” she cursed, quickly grabbing the glass and scooping the ice back into it.

“Flighty little thing, ain’t she?” Hoyt commented as he watched her scurry to grab a napkin and start dabbing at the wet spot on the table cloth.

“Now you leave her be, Hoyt,” Luda scolded, “Go on, Tommy. You boys head on into the front room.”

She moved both hands in a sweeping gesture to shoo them on out of the room and both of the men pushed themselves to their feet, shuffling in that general direction as Jenelle felt her insides clench tight at the mere _mention_ of babies.

“Well, don’t just stand there, child,” Luda hinted, “These dishes aren’t gonna wash themselves.”

Jenelle grabbed up Hoyt’s glass and started into the kitchen with it as the tendrils of dread started to spread throughout her stomach.

Tommy took a seat in one of the aging recliners there in the family room and Hoyt moved around behind the chair, standing just behind him as he pulled a rolled up magazine out of the back pocket of his “sheriff’s” trousers. He held the magazine out in front of Tommy to show him the cover, which proudly boasted a picture of a naked woman with raven-colored hair and large breasts sitting with her legs folded up underneath her and her ass resting against the heels of her feet.

Tommy’s pale eyes grew real wide as he gazed at the picture of the woman. He’d never seen a woman _completely_ naked. He’d seen plenty of women in various forms of partial nudity but never _completely_ naked.

His eyes focused on the naked woman on the cover of the magazine once more, taking in the details of her smooth, tanned skin.

_Raven-colored hair splayed out over the dark, wooden surface as he laid her down on the old table he used in the basement. The light that trickled down from the overhead light was dim but it illuminated all that smooth, tan skin. His large hands found her shirt, grasping at either side and tearing it open, right down the middle. She remained motionless, head tilted to one side, as he removed her shirt and let his eyes slowly rake over her naked torso. His keen, pale eyes paused at her ribs and her sides, a huff escaping him as he realized that there wouldn’t be much meat on this one._

Tommy was dragged out of his thoughts as Hoyt began to speak.

“Now _that_ is a naked woman, Tommy,” Hoyt explained, “See, that’s what bitches look like without their clothes on. And a woman has ta be naked ta make babies, ya see?”

Hoyt flipped the magazine open to the first page and Tommy’s eyes nearly popped right out of his head when he saw a woman lying flat on her back, her legs spread wide open to reveal that special place between her thighs. Tommy blinked, his eyes drawn to the gaping slit and pouty lips between her thighs before his face turned a bright shade of red and he turned his head to the side.

_He stood there staring, crystal blue orbs wide as they roamed up her long, slender legs. They’d fallen open when he’d been studying her, trying to see how much meat there was to work with on her legs. And that’s when he’d discovered it, that gaping slit between her thighs. It was framed on either side by a pair of lips, similar to those on her face but larger, plumper. He was just leaning in closer to get a better look when the front door slammed, jerking him out of his thoughts and causing him to shake his head hard. He couldn’t allow himself to become distracted. He had a job to do. Mama wanted meat for dinner that night._

“Now you pay attention, Tommy,” Hoyt told him, reaching out with his free hand to point to the woman’s body.

Tommy forced his eyes back to the magazine to see Hoyt pointing to the small mounds of flesh on her chest, informing him, “Now those are a woman’s titties, Tommy. _Every_ woman has ‘em. Some are smaller than others. The bigger they are, the more ya got ta play with. And bitches like it when ya play with their titties, Tommy. That’s called ‘foreplay’.”

_He gazed down at the sight before him, his eyes growing wide as they rested on the large mounds of flesh that sat atop the copper-haired woman’s chest. This one had MUCH larger… mounds than the rest. Her skin was sprinkled with freckles, the little dots littered all over her pale skin. There were hard little peaks at the top of those mounds, puckered and pink. His dark brows furrowed as he studied them, slowly reaching one hand out towards one of the fleshy mounds when the basement door was thrown open, only for Hoyt to holler down into the basement for Tommy to come give him a hand with their newest batch of “fresh meat”._

Tommy swallowed hard but gave a slow nod.

Hoyt lowered his hand and pointed to the slit between the woman’s thighs, stating, “And _that_ is a woman’s pussy. You can play with it too. Ya wanna make sure ta get it _nice_ and wet or it’ll be dry and that makes it uncomfortable and harder for ya ta push into ‘er. You’ll know she’s ready when she’s good and wet.”

Tommy swallowed once more and Hoyt flipped to another page, revealing a man standing in front of a woman who was perched in a chair, her hands gripping at her “tits” as he wrapped one hand around the thing between his legs, gripping it tight.

_He froze at the door, his pale eyes growing wide as he heard the sounds of harsh pants and muffled screams coming from just inside the room. His dark brows furrowed and he made his way over to the door of Hoyt’s bedroom, slowly pushing at the door until he could peek inside, revealing Hoyt bent over a blonde with wild hair. He had her pressed into the bed, her face smooshed into the mattress, as he huffed and puffed from behind her. Tommy’s eyes slowly raked over her slight frame. Hoyt had kept this one for quite some time. She was his favorite “toy” to “play with” as Hoyt called her. Tommy didn’t quite know why that was. She was scrawnier than the others, less meat on her bones, and she had a tendency to scream all day, disturbing the rest of the house with her pitiful wails. But there she was, her dress shoved up to her hips and Hoyt’s pants around his ankles as he jerked her back against him. Hoyt gave her rump a sharp, resounding SMACK and hollered “Gonna make me cum for ya, you little whore! Look at you!” just before he gave a loud groan. Tommy swallowed hard and hurried down the hall._

“Now this is a cock,” Hoyt said, gesturing to the thing between the man’s legs, “You’ve got one just the same as he does. When ya see a woman’s naked body, it gets hard. And then you’re ready ta make babies.”

He turned to another page in the magazine. This time, there was a man standing at the edge of a bed between a woman’s widespread legs, his “cock” shoved right into her “pussy” as Hoyt called it. Tommy’s face had never been redder and he wanted nothing more than to turn his head away from the sight. He couldn’t _believe_ that he would have to do _that_ with his Jenelle.

But then a thought hit him. What would his Jenelle look like without _her_ clothes? She was small, slight, compared to most of the women that he’d encountered. And she was _definitely_ tiny compared to his large frame. She had the prettiest face he’d ever seen, slender cheeks, a small, rounded chin, arching brows that matched the color of her long, caramel colored locks that fell in waves over her back and shoulders. She had big, cinnamon colored eyes that were framed with long, dark lashes, reminding him of a doe. Her nose was slender, her lips neither thin nor full, and she had a little freckle near the left corner of her mouth. Her “titties” as Hoyt called them were on the smaller side and her waist was slender, but her hips had a certain flare that made it hard for Tommy to take his hands off of her when he set his hands on them. Her “ass” was ample and well-rounded and Hoyt had commented on its “perkiness” before, having earned him a sharp glare from Tommy. Her legs were long and slender, like her arms, and her hands and feet were small and delicate.

In truth, Jenelle reminded Tommy of a deer with that lithe, leggy frame. She had those big, cinnamon colored orbs that seemed to hold a certain softness, a certain timidity. She looked sweet and innocent. And, from the _moment_ he’d laid eyes on her, Tommy had known that he would never agree to kill her, that he could never bring himself to harm her. She might have been scared of him, she might have cowered in his presence the first few times that he’d come near her, but she was always kind to him. She was gentle, quiet, meek. She was so pretty, like the angels mama talked about sometimes. She was like this little ray of sunshine that seemed to brighten his mood just by walking into the room. Her smile could light up the whole room, her very presence causing a certain warmth to spread throughout his body and a tightness to form in his chest. She was his sanctuary after a long, hard day. She was his warmth and comfort on those long, cold nights. She was the face that he saw when he closed his eyes. Jenelle was his everything.

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin when Hoyt spoke again.

“Now _that_ is how ya make babies, Tommy. See ya make sure her pussy’s good and wet and that your cock is nice and hard and then ya shove your cock _right_ in ‘er pussy,” Hoyt explained, “All ya do is shove it in there and work it in and out. Your body will know what ta do.”

Tommy just wanted this little “lesson” to be over. He’d never done this before and, to be honest, he didn’t know if he even _could_. But he knew that this is what mama wanted. And he wanted to make mama happy, wanted to make her proud.

Tommy’s family was a small one. All he had was mama, his Uncle Hoyt, and Uncle Monty. They were the only people that had ever been nice to him, until he’d met Jenelle. But mama had gotten this light in her eyes when she’d seen Jenelle for the first time. She’d told Tommy that she’d always wanted a baby girl, that she’d always wanted a daughter of her own, but she was too old to have one. She’d said that it would be nice to have another woman around the house to help her with the chores. And she’d told Tommy that she’d always wanted little grandbabies. She’d told him that he and Jenelle could give her little grandbabies, that Tommy could make her proud, and Tommy wanted nothing more than to make mama proud. So he’d been quick to agree.

Hoyt flipped to a different page and revealed a woman with her legs spread wide, one hand between her thighs as she shoved her fingers into her “pussy”. Tommy’s eyes grew real wide, finding that there was a clear liquid flowing out of the slit her fingers were disappearing into.

 _“That’s_ how ya know that she’s ready ta make babies, Tommy,” Hoyt explained, “When ya feel that she’s nice and wet down there, when she’s practically gushin’ for ya, _that’s_ when ya shove your dick in there. But ya gotta work it in nice and deep, son. Ya gotta get it in there good. And you’ve gotta practice _a lot,_ boy. ‘Cause it might take a little while ta get the job done. You’ve gotta get at ‘er more than once a day. And you’ve gotta _keep_ at ‘er ta make sure that ya get ‘er pregnant. Then she’ll be carryin’ your little baby in there. And that’d make mama _mighty_ proud.”

Tommy nodded but he was scared. He’d never done that before and he didn’t know if his Jenelle had either. But he would have to do _that_ with her in order to make the babies that mama wanted.

Hoyt slapped him on the back and told him, “Well, go get at 'er, boy! Once ya see 'er naked, your cock will get hard and you'll be ready ta go. It's not hard ta do. You'll know what ta do when ya get around to it. But you'd better start practicin', boy, 'cause mama wants those grandbabies just as soon as you can make 'em. And it'll take that little bitch 9 months before she can pop one out. So you go get at 'er.”

Tommy nodded, quick to push himself to his feet and shuffle out of the room. He was just glad to get out of that room, away from Hoyt and that magazine.

Tommy walked to the kitchen and found Jenelle there, standing at the sink with her arms buried in the dishwater up to her elbows. Mama had been putting the leftovers into the fridge and turned around to find him standing in the doorway, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his anxiety mounted. Mama nodded to him and headed out of the room, leaving him alone with his Jenelle.

Tommy couldn’t help but remember the time that he had stumbled onto Jenelle.

_He had found her lying on the side of the road one hot afternoon on his way back from the little café that mama ran. She was baking in the hot summer sun, her breathing so shallow that he’d thought she was dead at first. He’d hoisted her up onto his shoulder and carried her back home to show her to his family when they came home. Tommy had been very worried about the little brunette but mama had been quick to assure him that she would wake up soon, that she’d just gotten too hot out in the sun. Hoyt had wanted to “play” with her of course. But Tommy didn’t want Hoyt to play with her. Tommy wanted to KEEP her. So Tommy had held her tighter, cradling her against his chest, and glared down at Hoyt, shaking his head hard. Hoyt had started hollering and raising a royal fuss, shouting that it wasn’t fair, but mama wouldn’t have any of it. Mama had sent Hoyt out to look for Jenelle’s car, telling him that she probably had her things in it and that she would want them when she came to. Mama told Tommy that Jenelle would be HIS girl, that he didn’t have to share her with Hoyt. Mama said that she was a gift from God, that she was sent to bless their family. She said that Jenelle was special, that she was family now. And Tommy knew what that meant. Family was to be protected. They were the ones that took care of each other, the ones that looked out for each other._

Tommy shook his head hard to clear the memory from his mind and shuffled over to her, that slow, heavy stride that was all his own. He reached out to rest his large hands on her hips, turning her around to face him. Those wide, cinnamon colored irises gazed up at him as he peered down at her from over his mask. He hoisted her up and over his firm, broad shoulder and she released a “Whoo!” noise of surprise.

He heard Hoyt cackling as he headed for the stairs, making his way up the steps and down the hall to his bedroom.

“Get ‘er, Tommy! You get ‘er good!” Hoyt hollered, making Tommy’s spine stiffen.

“Now you hush, Charlie!” mama scolded even as Tommy entered his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, reaching back to flip the lock to ensure that no one interrupted him and his Jenelle, “You leave that poor boy alone.”

“Dammit, mama! It’s not Charlie anymore! I told ya! It’s Hoyt now, Sheriff Hoyt! Charlie’s dead!” Hoyt hollered, though his voice was muffled, thanks to the sturdy door in Tommy’s room.

Tommy gave a huff of annoyance as he carried Jenelle over to his bed and laid her down on it, his chest heaving as he gazed down at her. What was left of his nostrils flared wildly as he struggled to get oxygen into his lungs, his lips parting as he panted.

“Thomas…?” she asked hesitantly, “Do you… Do you know now? Did he tell you… h-how to make babies?”

Jenelle watched as Thomas nodded his head first, then shook it hard, his dark brows furrowing. His large hands clenched into fists at his sides and, while she couldn’t see his face beneath the mask he wore, she had no trouble discerning his frustration. His massive form made it _perfectly_ clear for her to see.

Before she even had time to register the fact that he was moving, he was on her, his large hands tugging at the thin cotton of the sundress Luda Mae had picked out for her that morning. His knees were positioned on either side of her thighs, his massive form pressing her down into the mattress as he continued to yank at her dress. Jenelle’s senses kicked in, panic flooding through her, and she began to writhe beneath him, thrashing wildly against him in an attempt to free herself.

She’d never seen him like this. He’d _never_ made a pass at her before. Sure, he’d take her hand and press it against his masked face or he’d reach out to brush his fingertips over her cheek. But he’d never tried to do anything even _remotely_ sexual with her. And yet now, after whatever lecture Hoyt had just given him, here he was, literally _ripping_ her clothes off of her. She didn’t know what it was that Hoyt had said to him. But she didn’t have to know what he’d told Thomas to know that Thomas was now determined to get the job done. And Thomas wasn’t your average man. Thomas was much larger, much stronger, than any man she’d ever encountered in the past. If she didn’t do something to stop him, she was going to wind up getting hurt… or worse…

“Thomas!” she cried, her small hands flying up in an attempt to swat his larger ones away from the neckline of her dress, “Thomas, no! Stop!”

Her hands found his firm, broad shoulders and she pushed, shoving as hard as she could. But it was like trying to move a brick wall. He wasn’t dissuaded. If anything, he became even _more_ determined, pulling at the thin cotton until she heard a very distinct _RRRIIIIIP._ He’d ripped her dress in two, right down the middle, exposing her bare skin to those keen, pale eyes. Jenelle began to tremble then, feeling the cool air fan against her exposed skin, as the realization that this man might just rape her set in. Tears filled her eyes as her body shook and she choked on a sob.

Tommy froze when he heard the small, choked sound escape his little brunette, his spine stiffening and his head jerking up. His pale blue eyes found her face, slowly roaming over it as he tried to read the signals she was giving him. Those cinnamon colored orbs were filled with tears, the first two escaping those pretty doe eyes to slide down her cheeks like two tiny rivers. Her body trembled and she used both hands to cover her chest, shielding herself from his observation. She turned her head to the side, unable to meet his gaze, and his chest clenched at the sight. Guilt crept into his stomach, gnawing at him, as he realized that he’d scared his Jenelle or, worse yet, possibly even injured her.

Tommy whined, leaning down to press his forehead to her temple as he voiced his apology. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead there a moment before easing back slowly to peer down at her once more. Moonlight flooded into the room through the old, sheer curtains that framed the windows in his bedroom, the pale rays casting a silvery light onto Jenelle’s exposed skin. When she still wouldn’t meet his gaze, Tommy pushed himself off of her and left the bed, moving to stand in front of the window and press his forehead to the cold glass as he felt tears burning at the back of his eyes.

He’d scared her. He’d frightened his Jenelle.

His large hands went up to his hair, fisting in the long, dark chocolate colored curls and tugging as he whined once more. When the urge to move compelled him, he paced over to his dresser, on the opposite side of the room, only to retrace his steps. He repeated this process three more times before he heard movement from the other side of the room, causing his head to snap up and his eyes to settle on the source of the noise.

He found her perched there on his bed, those long, slender legs dangling over the side of his bed as the moonlight filtered in through the window, giving her skin a pale, creamy complexion. Those big, soft eyes were fixed on him and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she sat there, studying him.

“Thomas…?” she asked, her voice so quiet he nearly missed it.

He turned towards her to let her know that he was listening.

“Come talk to me?” she said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Talk to me.” It was something she’d said before, something that had baffled him at first. She knew that he wouldn’t speak, that he’d never spoken a day in his life. And, to be honest, Tommy didn’t know if he even _could_ speak. But that didn’t dissuade her, didn’t stop her from trying. Unlike the rest of his family, it was rare that Jenelle didn’t ask him to sit down and “talk to her” when she knew that something was bothering him. She’d told him once that, just because he couldn’t voice his thoughts and feelings with _words,_ didn’t mean that he couldn’t communicate with her. And she’d gotten very good at reading him over the past couple of months that she’d been staying there in the Hewitt house. In fact, she could understand him better than any of the other members of his family and he’d known them his whole life!

She patted the spot beside her on the bed and Tommy gave a single, downward nod, taking a hesitant step towards her but keeping his eyes fixed on her in case she gave any signs of distress.

He slowly made his way over to her, taking a seat on the bed beside her, and she turned to face him. He reached out towards her with a trembling hand and used the rough pad of his thumb to brush away her tears, his gentle touch lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back into his lap.

Jenelle reached out towards him and Thomas flinched, shying away from her touch. Her brows furrowed for a moment before she realized that he was used to others inflicting pain on him. He had never known a gentle touch, had never known tenderness or affection. The thought made her chest tighten but she tried once more, slowly bringing one small hand up until she could press it against the side of his face. Thomas allowed the contact, reaching up to press his larger hand over it and holding it in place as he tilted his head slightly to the side, encouraging the small display of affection.

“Thomas…” she started, her voice so small, so quiet, “You scared me.”

Thomas whined, leaning in to press his forehead to hers and reaching up with his free hand to brush the tips of his fingers over her cheek.

Jenelle allowed the contact, accepting it as his form of apology. She cast her eyes down at her lap as she tried to think of how she wanted to convey her thoughts to him. She had to word things very carefully. She didn’t want to upset him and risk making their current situation even worse.

“This isn’t you, Thomas,” she tried to explain, “This isn’t the Thomas that I know. The Thomas I know is sweet and kind. He’s gentle and considerate. But the Thomas I just saw… I really thought he was going to hurt me.”

Tommy whined, easing his head back to shake it hard. No. No, he’d never meant to hurt her. That was the _last_ thing he ever wanted to do.

Jenelle brought her other hand up to press it against his opposite cheek, cradling his face in her small hands as she met those pale blue eyes with her cinnamon ones. Those eyes looked so eerie when the moonlight hit them, causing a shudder to race down her spine. But she put on a brave face, offering him a tiny smile, and ran the pads of her thumbs over the skin that was exposed just over the top of his mask.

“Thomas…” she started, “What you did tonight, when you scared me… You did that because you wanted to please Luda, didn’t you?”

Thomas gave an enthusiastic nod.

“I’m guessing that Hoyt told you how to make babies?” she questioned.

Again, Thomas nodded.

“And he told you that it would make Luda proud, didn’t he? He told you that it would make her happy?” she inquired.

This earned her another nod.

So Hoyt had manipulated Thomas to get him to do what Luda wanted. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to her really. Jenelle gave a slow nod as the information processed.

Then she spoke once more, bargaining, “What if I told you that _I_ could teach you how to make babies? What if I told you that I could _show_ you how to do it?”

Thomas nodded so forcefully that she wondered for a moment if he wouldn’t give himself whiplash.

“You’d let me teach you?” she asked, “You’d let me show you?”

Thomas nodded vigorously once more.

“If I teach you, will you promise to listen?” she pressed, “Will you stop if I say stop or go easy if I tell you to?”

Again, he nodded.

“I’ve never done this before either, Thomas,” Jenelle explained, “But you’re a _lot_ bigger than me. You’re a _lot_ stronger than me. If we go too fast or you get too excited, you could hurt me. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

The sound that escaped him then was somewhere between a whine and a whimper, reminding her of a wounded animal, but he shook his head hard, leaning in to press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I didn’t think so,” she confirmed, “We’ll have to go slow, but I’ll teach you, just as long as you promise to listen.”

He nodded fiercely and she smiled up at him, gently brushing her thumbs over the rise of his cheeks, just above his mask.

Jenelle took a deep breath, letting her eyes close for a moment. She was just glad that she still had a month’s supply of birth control pills left in her duffle bag. Hoyt had discovered them while snooping through her things after Thomas had found her and brought her back to the house, choosing to rifle through her things while she was still unconscious. The only way she’d been able to avoid their prying questions was to tell them that she was on allergy medication that she had to take once daily since she had really bad hay fever – and, in reality, her allergies _were_ relentless – but thankfully, the label had been ripped off of the pack of pills so they had no way of knowing that she was, in fact, lying out of her teeth. Hoyt had wanted to pitch them but Luda Mae had told him that there was no harm in letting her take the pills, at least until they ran out. She was just thankful that they’d let her keep them. It would allow her at least a month and a half before the effects of her medication would wear off completely and she’d run the risk of becoming pregnant.

Jenelle was pulled from her thoughts when she felt Thomas’s large hands framing her face. He worked the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks, along the sides of her nose, over her lips. For a man with such a massive, hulking frame, he was capable of great control. His movements were slow, his touch gentle but thorough as he explored the contours of her face, taking in every dip and curve. He moved to trace her eyebrows then and she closed her eyes, feeling those large thumbs gently brush over her closed eyelids. She was surprised to hear a low purr escape the large man in front of her and she let her eyes flutter open to find him gazing down at her, those crystal blue orbs locked on her lips as he slowly brushed his thumb over her bottom lip once more, taking in the soft, smooth texture of it.

Tommy stared down at his little brunette in awe, his pale eyes fixed on her lips as he slowly explored the soft, smooth skin of her bottom lip. To his great surprise, she puckered her lips, pressing a simple kiss to the rough pad of his thumb, and Tommy froze, his eyes growing wide.

“I’ll practice making babies with you, Thomas,” Jenelle told him, her quiet whisper cutting through the silence of the dimly lit room, “I’ll teach you how to do it. I know you want to please Luda, that you want to make her proud. But you can please _me_ too. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Tommy nodded eagerly. He wanted to hear what his Jenelle had to say about making babies. He wanted to learn what would make _her_ happy.

Jenelle smiled up at him, reaching up to catch his large hand in one of her smaller ones and moving it so that she could place a kiss to the rough, calloused palm of his hand. Tommy’s eyes widened at the gesture but he never let them leave her mouth.

“When a man and a woman are attracted to each other, sometimes they have sex, Thomas,” she began, pausing when his dark brows furrowed to ask, “Didn’t Hoyt tell you that?”

Thomas shook his head and she sighed, shaking her head as she informed him, “Well, let’s start at the beginning then. Babies are sometimes made when a man and a woman have sex. Men and women can have casual sex and use protection – like a condom that the man slides onto his penis or a certain kind of medicine that the woman takes – and the chances of a baby being made are very, very low. Those men and women usually have sex for the pleasure they experience when they do it. They usually have sex with more than one person. They have sex with whoever catches their eye, but they don’t develop any feelings for that person. They simply do it because it feels good. Does that make sense?”

Tommy nodded his head. He understood now. That was why Hoyt liked to “play” with some of the women they brought back to the house. He did it because he said it felt good. But he never kept any of them around for long. He got bored with them after a few days, maybe a couple of weeks at most. Then, when a new one came along that he liked better, he took the old one downstairs for Tommy to butcher.

Jenelle continued on to say, “But _some_ people only have sex with one partner because they really love them. _They_ have sex to feel closer to that person.”

Tommy cocked his head to one side, his dark brows furrowing, and he pointed to Jenelle. What did she do?

“Me?” she inquired, “You want to know what _I_ do?”

Tommy nodded.

“I’ve never had sex before,” she explained, her gaze lowering to her lap and a slight flush coloring her cheeks, “I’ve been saving it for a special man, a man that loves me and respects me. I’ve been waiting for a man that will only want to have sex with _me.”_

Tommy whined, reaching out to pull her into his arms and onto his lap, coaxing a squeak of surprise from his little brunette.

He hugged her close, squeezing her tight, until she wheezed, “Too tight, Thomas. Too tight.”

He was quick to loosen his grip but he still didn’t release her. He pointed to her first and then himself, taking one of her small hands in his larger one and guiding it to his chest as he peered down at her.

Jenelle’s brows furrowed as she gazed up at him and Tommy saw the confusion there. She didn’t understand.

He repeated the motions, pointing to first her and then poking his own chest before he pressed his large palm more firmly to the hand she had resting against his chest, over his heart.

Jenelle’s brows furrowed even further as she stared at their hands but she felt the steady thrumming of his heart beneath his skin and the thin cotton of his button-up shirt. Her eyes widened and she jerked her head up to meet his gaze once more as it registered in her brain. Was he trying to tell her that she was the only one that he wanted?

“Are you… Are you trying to tell me that you only want me?” she questioned.

Tommy nodded eagerly. Then he pointed to her mouth once more to indicate that she could continue.

“Right,” she said, “Well, if a man and woman are _trying_ to have a baby, then they don’t use any protection. If the woman is at a stage in her monthly cycle when she’s fertile, the chances of her becoming pregnant are much higher. If she _does_ get pregnant, the little baby grows for 9 months inside of her tummy. Well, technically, she carries it for 40 weeks, so that would be 10 months I guess.”

Tommy’s eyes widened but he nodded to let her know that he understood.

“Did Hoyt teach you how to… have sex?” she asked, nearly cringing at the last two words.

She could only imagine what Hoyt called the process of having sex or what terminology he’d used to explain the male and female anatomy to Thomas.

Thomas nodded, reaching down to point to the crotch of his trousers first and then the pair of white, lace boy shorts that were now exposed beneath her ripped dress.

Jenelle swallowed hard but nodded, confirming, “That’s right. You slide your penis in down there.”

His dark brows furrowed for a moment but he nodded.

“Did he tell you how your body will react when you get… aroused?” Jenelle inquired.

Thomas tilted his head to one side and Jenelle gave a nod, explaining, “Since you’re a man, your body will react differently than mine. When you get excited, your penis will grow hard. It will get longer and thicker, letting you know that you’re ready to have sex.”

Tommy’s eyes grew real wide and he lowered his gaze to the crotch of his trousers. His… _thing_ would do _that?_

Jenelle waited until he’d focused his gaze on her once more before she began speaking again, telling him, “But a woman reacts differently. When a woman gets excited or aroused, there’s this… liquid that comes out of her… vagina.”

She swallowed hard. She didn’t know why it was so much more difficult to talk about how the female body reacted to sexual stimulation than a male did but it was, _especially_ when she was talking to _Thomas_ about it. And, when she took into consideration the very reason why they were even having this conversation in the _first_ place… Well she was surprised that she could even talk at all.

But she was surprised to see Thomas nodding his head, letting her know that he understood.

“Right,” she sighed, “Well that… _liquid_ helps let her know that she’s ready to have sex. When she’s really wet… down there, it makes it easier for the man to push inside. If she’s _not_ wet, it makes it painful and uncomfortable for her to have sex and it makes it harder for the man to push his penis inside of her.”

Thomas’s eyes grew wide, but he nodded energetically, which relieved her. If he felt that that was an important piece of information, hopefully he’d remember it.

“Well,” she questioned, “Did Hoyt tell you how to excite a woman?”

Tommy shook his head hard but leaned in closer. He wanted to know. He wanted to know what his Jenelle wanted him to do to her. He wanted to know what she liked, what would make her… wet for him.

“Every woman is different,” his little brunette informed him, “Just like every man is different. We all have different sweet spots, different reactions to this or that. It takes time, but you can figure out where your partner likes to be kissed or touched. You can learn what they do and don’t like. It just takes some time. You just have to be willing to explore their body and pay close attention to their reactions to this or that.”

Tommy’s dark brows furrowed and his lips curled down into a pout.

He reached out to gently tap at her chest, just above the cup of her lacy bra, and Jenelle swallowed hard.

“What do _I_ like?” she asked, trying to decipher the meaning behind this gesture.

He nodded to confirm that she had guessed the right question, and she shrugged her slender shoulders, answering, “I haven’t really done too much with guys. I’ve had a kiss or two but that’s it.”

Tommy growled at that, his large hands clenching into fists at just the _thought_ of another man kissing her.

But his little brunette went on to explain, “I was a bookworm in school. I tended to spend most of my time reading instead of playing with the other kids. I was small and the other kids tended to pick on me a lot.”

A low snarl rumbled up from deep within his throat at the thought of her having endured the harsh words of other children like he had when he was younger. He didn’t want that for his Jenelle. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t _fair._ She was too sweet, too kind. But she would never have to listen to another person talking bad about her. Because he would hurt _anyone_ that upset his Jenelle.

He was drawn from his thoughts when she spoke once more, explaining, “Even when I got into high school, I didn’t really have all that many friends. I was a homebody. I just stayed at home when the other kids went out to parties and things like that. I never smoked. I never drank alcohol. The boys weren’t all that interested in a dorky girl like me.”

Tommy grunted, reaching one large hand out to run it over those long, caramel colored waves. He took her hand in his and guided it to his chest, over his shirt. _He_ was interested in her. She was _his_ Jenelle now. And _no one_ was going to take her away from him.

“I… I guess _both_ of us will learn a lot tonight then, won’t we?” she questioned, a small smile tugging at her lips as she peeked up at him from under those long, dark lashes, “I’ve never done this… And _you’ve_ never done this… So we’ll both just… learn together.”

Tommy nodded at that. He was glad that he wasn’t the only one that hadn’t done this before. And he was glad that Jenelle was willing to explain all of this to him.

Jenelle swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as she gathered up her courage, and asked, “Well… would you like to touch me, Thomas?”

Tommy nodded, feeling his stomach start to stir in excitement. Would she really let him touch her? The anticipation rose as his pale blue eyes roamed down to the skin that was exposed beneath Jenelle’s ripped dress. He slowly reached one trembling hand out towards her, his fingertips ghosting along her ribs, and her skin twitched beneath his fingers, a giggle escaping her.

His head snapped up and his eyes found hers, discovering a smile tugging at her lips as she explained, “That tickles.”

Tommy cocked his head to one side, brushing his fingertips along her ribs once more to test that theory, and was met with the same reaction, coaxing another round of giggles from her. Tommy felt his lips twitch beneath his mask as a smile stole across his face. He liked that sound. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh in the two months that his Jenelle had been staying there at the Hewitt house.

He slowly reached out towards her once more, wrapping his hand around her side this time, just beneath the bottom of her bra. He slowly slid his hand down her side, taking in the natural curve of her body. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. It looked so pale as the moonlight played over the parts of her that were exposed to his wandering gaze.

He let his hand rest on her hip as he reached out with his other hand, his trembling fingers brushing down over her stomach to pause just above her navel. He worked a slow circle around it with the tip of his finger before letting his gaze slowly roam back up her torso, his eyes settling on the slight swell of her breasts as they crested above the white, lacy cups of her bra.

Jenelle swallowed hard, seeing where his gaze had landed, and took a deep breath. She could do this. She _had_ to do this. It was either she let him explore her body willingly or he would do whatever he pleased with her _against_ her will. This was the lesser of two evils, or so it seemed.

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she watched with bated breath as he slowly slid his hand back up her stomach, his destination made quite clear as those crystal blue eyes remained fixed on her chest. She wasn’t surprised by the fact that he cupped her lace-covered breast in his large hand. What _did_ surprise her was the sharp jolt that this action caused to shoot down her spine, her breath escaping her in a heated rush as her back arched, pressing her breast more firmly against his calloused palm.

Tommy’s eyes widened, his brows hiking up his forehead, as he watched his Jenelle react to his touch. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted slightly as he dealt her a small squeeze. Her back arched once more, her body seeming to demand more of his attention. And Tommy was eager to give it, coaxing a low purr out of her this time as he gave her another squeeze.

Tommy felt her small hand sliding up his arm, pressing against the back of his hand as she coaxed him into squeezing her a little harder. He followed her lead, reveling in the breathy moan that escaped her as he dealt her another squeeze. His pale eyes flicked up to her face, noticing that her eyes were watching him now, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she arched her back, pressing her chest up into his large hand. He felt something start to poke through the thin lace of her bra, causing his brows to furrow as he wondered what it could be. He made a single pass with his thumb over the lace, running the digit over the little peak that was pressing out against the lace. This prompted a little whine from his Jenelle, her hand molding over his and her head tipping back against the pillow as her back curled, bringing her even closer to his large hand.

Tommy tilted his head to the side as he studied her.

“Th-That’s my nipple, Tommy,” she explained, using his nickname for the first time in the two months that she’d been staying with his family, “God, it feels good when you play with it.”

Her cheeks flamed with the confession, but it brought Tommy a tremendous amount of pride to know that he could make her feel good, just from simply touching her, from simply teasing her over the lace. But then, he wondered, what would it feel like to touch her _bare_ skin? Would she let him? Would she like it just as much as she liked him touching her over the lace? Or was it possible that she might like it even more?

With that thought in mind, Tommy reached for the clasp at the front of her bra, his thick fingers fumbling clumsily with the latch until he growled and yanked at it in frustration, tearing the material and rendering it useless as it fell to either side, leaving the pale globes of her small but perky breasts exposed to his eager gaze.

Jenelle lied still beneath him, her cinnamon eyes wide in surprise and just a hint of fear. She waited with bated breath, anxiously awaiting his next move. She watched as he sucked in a sharp breath, his massive chest heaving with his every breath. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling on it as she watched him closely. Her eyes followed his every move, focusing on the large hand that he lifted, fingers trembling and breath held tight in his lungs as he slowly, hesitantly, brought his hand back towards her chest, which was now bared before him.

His touch was gentle, hand trembling slightly as he brought the rough, calloused palm of his giant hand to rest over her bare breast, cupping her delicately, almost as if he were afraid that she would break. But Jenelle’s reaction was instant, her back bowing up off of the bed and her head tilting back onto the pillow behind her as a loud gasp slipped past her lips. Her hand found his, molding over the back of it and demonstrating to him that she wanted him to grip her tighter.

Upon seeing her reaction, Thomas squeezed her breast more firmly, using his large palm and long, thick fingers to cup her and knead her. He used his thumb to gently tease the peak that pressed against his hand, and she whimpered, her body begging for more.

“Yes!” she practically whimpered, “Tommy, please!”

Tommy continued to play at her breast, kneading and squeezing as he watched his Jenelle squirm beneath him, arching and purring like a cat. She brought her free hand up into her hair, fisting her fingers in the caramel colored locks as she rolled her back, pressing herself more firmly against his hand and encouraging his affections with a breathy sigh. She laced her fingers through his, showing him just how she liked to be touched, and Tommy felt the sparks start low in his abdomen, his every nerve crackling as the adrenaline and testosterone rushed through his veins. He felt something stir within him, a certain sense of warmth that pooled low in his gut, followed by a strange, tightening sensation between his thighs.

He peeked down at the crotch of his pants, finding that his “cock” as Hoyt had called it was starting to perk up. His eyes widened and he was quick to steal a peek down at his Jenelle. But that didn’t seem to help his current situation any. Instead, he found her writhing beneath his grip on her breast, her long legs and small, delicate feet wriggling over the simple, once-white sheets that covered his mattress. Her eyes were closed again, her lips parted as she moaned for him, the sound so sweet, so perfect, as his name spilled from her lips.

“God, Tommy, that feels so good…” she practically purred.

Tommy eased his hand back from her body, his chest growing tight as he heard her whimper in disapproval, her lips curling down into a pout as she opened her eyes to find him with those pretty doe eyes. He brought his hand down to rest on the bed just beside her, using his free hand to slowly reach out towards her, letting the rough pads of his fingertips skim against the tender skin of her thigh. He felt the shudders race down her spine, his eyes fixed on her face, watching every twitch of her mouth, every sigh that passed her lips, every time she caught that bottom lip between her teeth. He heard the low purr she gave as he trailed his fingers further north, stopping only to trace the hem of her lace boy shorts when he’d finally reached them.

Jenelle gasped as she felt his fingers tracing the line of her panties, her hips instinctively bucking towards his hand as she greedily begged for more.

“Please!” she pleaded, breathless and eagerly anticipating his touch, “Don’t stop!”

Tommy took that as a green light, trailing his fingers up over the lace and lightly ghosting over the center, where he discovered, much to his surprise, that the fabric was damp. Tilting his head to one side, Tommy teased his fingers over the fabric once more, this time swiping back down towards the bottom of her panties. The sharp gasp that Jenelle gave and the way that her hips jerked towards his hand told him that she liked him touching her there. And he couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t what she’d been talking about when she had told him that a woman would get wet for a man when she liked the way he touched her.

“Yes, Tommy,” she encouraged him, her voice barely above a whisper as she nodded to him, “Yes… Please touch me there…”

Tommy nodded to her, working his fingers back up the length of that wet spot, pressing a little more firmly against her now that he knew she liked it, and he was rewarded by a strangled whine, the loudest sound that his Jenelle had made for him yet. Afraid that he had hurt her, Tommy peered down at her anxiously, whining as he stilled his hand. But Jenelle was quick to reach down for his wrist, prompting him to slide his fingers up to the waistband of her panties.

“Take them off, Tommy,” she told him, “I want you to touch me. Please.”

Tommy wasted no time, reaching up to yank the panties down her long, slender legs and tossing them somewhere across the room. His keen eyes focused on her newly exposed skin as the moonlight poured in through the sheer fabric of the curtains, spilling over her pale skin. He found that she had curls growing down there, between her thighs. And nestled between those curls was where she was wet for him.

As he watched, Jenelle parted her thighs for him, letting her legs fall open and exposing herself to him. Tommy sucked in a quick breath as he was greeted with the sight of her, her lips parting and juices dripping down the length of her slit onto the bed beneath her. Her curls were damp already, coated in her arousal, and Tommy found that he was reaching out towards her before he even realized that he was moving. His fingers found her slick slit first, slowly sliding up through the moisture that was gathering there and coaxing a shuddering sigh from his Jenelle as he explored the length of her slit. He discovered a little nub just above her slit, his brows furrowing as he gently rubbed at it, and Jenelle went wild beneath him, giving a sharp whine and jerking her hips towards him. Her thighs trembled on either side of his hand and she ground herself against his hand.

“Fuck!” she cursed under her breath.

Tommy’s eyes widened. He’d never heard her curse since she’d been brought back to the Hewitt house.

“Yes, Tommy! Yes!” she praised, wriggling her hips as she tried to bring herself closer to his hand, which had retreated during his state of surprise upon hearing that four letter word slip past those pretty little lips, “Touch me there… _Please_ , touch me there…”

This was the most vocal Tommy had ever heard the little brunette be in all the time that she had spent around him in the past two months. And all because he was touching her… _there._

He glanced down once more to watch as his fingers met her wet slit once more, following it up to find that little bundle and swirling over it with fingers that were coated in her juices. She whined and wiggled, her feet scrambling over the sheets as she struggled to bring herself ever closer to his hand. Her hips rocked and arched, coaxing him to continue as he teased that little nub with the rough pads of his fingertips. He swirled his fingers over it, then pressed against it, and she practically flew off of the bed, nearly shouting in a state of ecstasy as her head thrashed on the pillow, her hair flying out around her as she gripped at the sheets with both hands.

Curious, Tommy trailed his fingers back down, poising just at her entrance. He gently prodded at her with one finger, not quite breaching her hole but letting her know that he was there. Jenelle froze, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she watched him. Tommy waited, watching for some kind of sign that she was ready, that she was okay with this. Finally, she nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy pressed one finger inside, slowly sliding it into her tight, wet heat. She was so hot, so slick, her walls squeezing around his finger as he gradually eased it inside. He pressed in until the palm of his hand met her slick folds and Jenelle brought her hands up to grasp his biceps, her fingers digging in as she kept her eyes fixed on him. She had her bottom lip caught between her teeth again, but that didn’t stop the loud whine that spilled from her as he used his finger to start exploring her walls. He dragged his finger along her slick walls, exploring her insides as he tried to get the lay of the land. He discovered a rough patch along her upper wall, a spongy section in her wall, and rubbed his finger against it.

Her reaction was instant. She voiced a sharp whine, her hips jerking and her walls fluttering around his finger, clenching at him, and Tommy whined, his brows furrowing as he leaned closer to her, pressing his forehead to hers. Had he hurt her?

“Oh my God, Tommy…” she sighed, almost sounding breathless, “That spot… It’s so _sensitive…”_

Was that a bad thing?

He tilted his head at her, brows furrowed, and she shook her head at him, as if she could tell what he was thinking.

“No,” she reassured him, “You didn’t hurt me. It just… It feels _really_ good when you touch me there. Just like that little bundle of nerves above my… well you know…”

She blushed furiously at the confession and Tommy realized that he hadn’t, in fact, hurt her. Instead, he had discovered one of her “sweet spots” that she’d tried to tell him about earlier. So, he filed that little bit of information away and slowly rubbed his finger over the spot again, coaxing another of those maddening moans out of his Jenelle.

By now, his pants were unbearably tight. The thing between his legs was throbbing, aching, and he didn’t know what to do about it. All he knew was that he wasn’t done exploring his little brunette yet.

Jenelle couldn’t believe the sensations singing through her body, her nerves coming alive, skin tingling, core heating as Thomas delved his finger back down deep inside of her, stroking along her walls and pistoning inside of her warm, wet depths. She bit her bottom lip, struggling to keep her moans at bay. But it was no use. She whined, tipping her head back on the pillow and fisting her fingers tight in the sheets, her feet scrambling over the thin cotton even as her toes curled. Her hips rocked, back arching, pelvis twisting in an attempt to goad the massive man above her to continue his ministrations.

She could feel the heat pooling low, settling somewhere just below her navel. She could feel the rough pads of his fingers, scraping along her walls as he added a second finger into the equation. She could feel the pad of his thumb brushing against her clit every so often, dragging a gasp or a whine from her and causing her thighs to shake from the added stimulation. But she could do little more than turn her head from side to side, begging, pleading, mumbling incoherently as the crescendo inside of her kept building. She was gasping, panting, squirming, writhing, and still he kept coaxing her higher and higher.

“Tommy!” she whimpered, “Tommy, please!”

But what did she want, he wondered? He watched her, tilting his head to one side as he kept his eyes rooted to her writhing form on the bed. She was practically dancing beneath his touch, her whole body moving, twisting, arching. She kept babbling, but he couldn’t make out most of the words. He used his thumb to brush that sensitive little bundle above her slit and she lost it, her whole body spasming as she practically screamed. Her walls clamped down so tightly on his fingers that he could no longer drive them inside of her and her thighs shook violently as her chest heaved.

Tommy whined, jerking his fingers out of her and quickly leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers and using his clean hand to run his hand over her hair, gently brushing her cheek on the way down. His pale eyes darted over her face, desperately searching for some sign that she was okay, that she wasn’t in pain. Her whole face was stretched tight, her mouth open wide as she squeezed her legs shut tight, rubbing her thighs together, and let out a strangled whine.

Tommy whined too, pushing himself up into a seated position and reaching out for her, pulling her close and tucking her against the firm wall of his chest as he whimpered into her hair, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I’m okay, Tommy…” she panted, “I’m okay…”

But… Then why had she convulsed like that? He’d been afraid that she was having some sort of episode, some sort of seizure or something. To be honest, he hadn’t known _what_ was wrong with her. He just knew that something wasn’t right.

“I’m okay…” she repeated, slowly getting her breath back.

She turned her head and pressed her forehead against his, resting it there as she tried to slow her racing heartbeat.

“I just… _Wow…”_ she said, “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?”

She laughed then. The sound was giddy, almost half breathless, but it relieved the ache in Tommy’s chest, the frantic thumping of his heart. His stomach slowly descended back to its proper place and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

She’d scared the shit out of him.

Tommy growled, shaking his head at her for scaring him like that, and gave a huff to show his disapproval. But his Jenelle just giggled, burying her face in his chest, and everything was right again.

“Well…” she sighed, “I think it’s your turn, don’t you?”

Tommy’s brows hiked up his forehead at that and he jerked his head back out of her neck, peering down at her.

She smiled up at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth to keep another fit of giggles at bay, and asked, “Well, aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to see what’s it feels like?”

Tommy nodded. He supposed he did. If it felt even _half_ as good as Jenelle made it look, it had to be worth nearly giving him a heart attack.

“All right then,” she said, “It’s settled.”

She wiggled slightly then, her bare rump teasing the raging erection that he was sporting beneath his trousers for her. Tommy whimpered, his hips jerking towards her as his grip on her tightened.

“You’re poking me!” she accused with a laugh, smiling up at him as he lowered his head, his dark curls hiding his embarrassed gaze.

“If you put me down…” she offered quietly, tilting her head slightly as her cinnamon colored eyes sought out his baby blues, “I could try to… return the favor?”

She voiced it as a question, leaving it up to him to decide. It was better that way. While she knew that she had no real say in the matter – not if he really wanted to physically overpower her – he seemed to respond much better when he was told what to do. If there was one thing that she had learned about Tommy during her short stay there at the Hewitt house, it was that Thomas Hewitt liked having a purpose. It made him feel important, made him feel like a valued member of the family – even if they were some sick, twisted, manipulative, cannibalistic rednecks that preyed on the few poor, unfortunate souls that managed to wander through their neck of the woods on their way to anywhere else but here, in this Godforsaken, sun-beaten hell that they called home.

Tommy’s brows hiked up his forehead and he jerked his head up to meet her gaze, his brilliant, blue eyes meeting her pretty, doe eyes. Was she really offering to touch him? To touch his bare skin? Just like he had touched hers?

As if to answer his silent questions, his Jenelle reached one small hand up to gently brush a stray strand of his long, dark hair behind his ear, her fingertips just barely grazing the side of the crude, leather muzzle that hid his deformities from the cold, cruel world. Tommy jerked his face away from her then, narrowing his fierce, blue eyes at her, and growled.

“Tommy –,” she started, only to be cut off when he snarled at her and shoved her off of his lap to send her falling onto the bed in front of him.

She gazed up at him then with wide eyes, eyes that were filled with both surprise and rejection. She brought her hand back down, tucking it between her bare thighs, thighs that he now knew were soft and silky against his rough, calloused hands.

“I… I’m sorry,” she apologized, casting her eyes down to her own lap, “I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to touch your mask, Tommy. I just… Your hair was in your eyes and I thought… I thought it might bother you is all…”

Tommy’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly as he studied her. She hadn’t meant to remove his mask? She’d simply been trying to brush the hair out of his eyes so that he could see better?

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. He felt guilty now. She hadn’t meant to expose him, to remove his sense of security from him. She’d only meant to make him more comfortable. And he’d ruined the moment by taking offense and quickly casting her aside.

Tommy whined, leaning down to press his forehead to hers as he whimpered in apology. She tilted her head back slightly, her gaze meeting his, and he found that her eyes were shining with unshed tears, which only made him feel worse. In fact, it felt like someone had just twisted a knife in his chest, leaving him breathless, his chest clenching tight in response.

She started to lift her hand towards his face, presumably to repeat her earlier gesture of trying to brush his unruly hair out of his face for him, but was quick to lower it once more. So, Tommy reached out, capturing her small hand in his large one, and guided it up to his face. He pressed it against his mask and shook his head hard, trying to make her understand that he wasn’t ready for her to see all of him just yet. Then he moved their intwined fingers up to his hair, brushing it back behind his ear.

The gesture brought a smile to his Jenelle’s face and that, too, tugged at his heart. He liked seeing her happy, like knowing that _he_ was the one to make her happy.

He brought her hand back down and around, pressing it to the front of his muzzle so that he could breathe her in. The light scent of lemons and clean linen filtered to his open, flaring nostrils. It was a scent that he had come to associate with his Jenelle. She was like a sunny day, warm and radiant, clean and fresh. She always smelled like lemons, and he was just _sure_ that it was because of that little bottle she kept tucked away in her suitcase there in his room, hoping that no one would find it and confiscate it from her. But Tommy kept her secret, even when he caught her spraying it on one morning before breakfast, because she had begged him not to tell the others. He knew that it was one of the few possessions of hers that she still had and the desperate way that she had clung to it, her eyes widening in both fear and dread, as he had walked in on her while she was getting ready to go down and help mama start breakfast, had been enough to convince him that he didn’t want to be the one to take away what was left of her fleeting happiness.

Looking back on it now, he was glad that he had made that decision because he had come to know that his Jenelle was near any time his overly-sensitive nostrils picked up that unique scent.

Tommy leaned in, rooting beneath her long, caramel colored waves to bury his face in her neck and breathe her in deep. He loved that scent. He wanted to keep it with him always, to bathe himself in it so that it would never leave him. It was the first thing he smelled in the morning, when he woke with his face buried in the crook of her neck, and it was the last thing he smelled as he drifted off to sleep at night, with his nose buried in her hair as she curled against him to bury her face against his firm, broad chest.

He heard Jenelle’s breath catch in her throat as he trailed what would have been his nose but was now just exposed nostrils covered beneath his mask along the length of her neck, taking in great, greedy whiffs of her as his large hands found her sides, holding her to him. He hummed his approval as he nuzzled against her throat, his grip tightening just slightly before he gasped, feeling one of her small hands brushing over the aching, sensitive head of his cock over his trousers.

His whole body grew rigid in that split second, feeling her hand ghosting shyly over the ridge she found there. He felt her slowly begin to explore, her touches growing a little more confident when he released a strangled groan and his hips jerked eagerly towards her roaming fingers as they slid down, lightly tracing the length of him over the material. And Tommy had never hated clothing more than he did in that moment.

He whined, his hands flying down to the buckle of his belt, fingers fumbling clumsily to work it loose and get the front of his pants open so that he could remove the barrier between her hands and his skin. Once the front of his pants was open, he shoved them down, kicking his legs hard to rid himself of the awful things. Then he turned towards her, his cheeks flushed as he waited eagerly, the anticipation mounting within him as he held his breath, anxiously awaiting her curious exploration once more.

And he wasn’t disappointed. He watched her closely, his blue eyes fastened to her small hand as she reached out towards him, those pretty doe eyes casting one quick glance up at him to make certain that he was okay with this, which prompted a quick, hard nod from him, before she focused her gaze back down on the impressive erection that sprouted from between his legs.

Jenelle would have never guessed that a man could be that large. But, considering the size of the rest of him, it should have come as no surprise. Tommy’s cock stood, stiff and proud, jutting up from his crotch to bob back and forth, nearly brushing his stomach. In fact, he was so long, she was sure the head would have reached his navel – if not, higher – and his girth was both impressive and intimidating. She honestly didn’t know if that thing would fit inside of her and she was almost afraid to find out.

With that thought in mind, she brought her hand down to wrap it around his wide girth, discovering that she couldn’t even close her fingers all the way around him. Her brows hiked up her forehead, but she set to work, determined to bring this large man pleasure so that he might agree when she asked him later if they might hold off on the actual sex part of this equation until a later time. She brought her hand up the length of his shaft, using her thumb to slowly circle the broad, bulbous head and tease the slit at the very tip, coaxing a low, rumbling groan from the massive man in front of her. Then she was moving her hand back down, working towards the base of him.

She kept her motions slow, measured, steady, trying to ease him into it. She had never done this before and, to be honest, she had no idea what the hell she was doing. But she figured that it couldn’t be that hard to learn. All she had to do was watch him for any indications that she was doing okay or that she needed to make improvements. But, judging by the low, strangled groans she was pulling from him and the way he thrust his hips up in time with her slowly increasing pace told her that she was doing just fine.

She continued, bringing her other hand down to press it to his thigh. She’d had a friend once that had told her something about a man having a muscle centered just between his hip and his thigh, where the two joined, that would, when relaxed into a pliant state, make a man cum. So, she slowly worked her hand higher up his thigh even as she used her hand on his cock to coax him on.

Once she reached her destination, Jenelle used her thumb to find that tense spot just between his thigh and his hip. She pressed firmly against it, massaging in slow, steady circles as she continued to work her hand up and down his length, tightening her grip around him slightly and earning a sharp whine for her efforts. His hips bucked towards her hand in quick, hard jerks, his motions not as steady as they had been a few moments ago, and she knew that he had to be getting closer, if his harsh breathing beneath the mask was any indication. He started to draw deep breaths in through his teeth, his thighs beginning to shake, and she felt the muscle beneath her thumb starting to loosen even as the pulse thumping through his cock began to beat frantically against the palm of her hand, a telltale sign that he was about to cum.

And he did, letting loose a deep, thunderous growl that sent a shudder racing down her spine as he came in great, wet spurts, the thick, hot liquid shooting from his cock and onto his stomach. Her eyes grew wide as she watched, not having been prepared for such an explosive finish from a man that was usually so quiet and composed, even in the face of Hoyt’s constant badgering and ridiculous insults.

Tommy was shaking, every muscle in his body spasming as he panted harshly beneath the mask, his blue eyes barely open as he stared down at the small woman who had just stolen the very breath from him. He knew now what she had felt in that moment, when he had tipped her over the edge. The pleasure so intense it was blinding, numbing all of his other senses until all he could do was feel, feel so deeply that it consumed him. Unable to even support his own weight any longer, Tommy fell back onto the bed, his chest heaving with every breath as he struggled to catch his breath. There was nothing that compared to that.

For a moment, he just laid there, listening to his own heart racing in his ears. Then he felt it, her timid approach as she slowly tried to crawl her way down the bed beside him.

“Thomas…?” she asked hesitantly, “Are you okay?”

Tommy nodded, barely able to muster the strength to reach out one hand to wrap around her wrist and pull her down against him.

She fell on top of him, causing the air he’d just finally managed to catch to come rushing out of his lungs. She laughed then, a smile tugging at her lips as she stared down at him, her hands trapped between them, resting over the firm expanse of his chest.

Tommy sighed, content just to lie there with his Jenelle snuggled in close, something that she only had a tendency to do after she had fallen asleep. He felt her rubbing her cheek against his chest, purring happily as she relaxed against him, her bare breasts pressed against his chest and her head tucked in underneath his chin. He draped one arm around her waist, holding her close as he felt his body slowly start to relax.

“So, I take it you’re okay with waiting until tomorrow night to explore with our mouths?” Jenelle murmured quietly.

Tommy jerked his head up at that, peering down at her with those blue eyes wide, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind, and Jenelle couldn’t help but giggle.

“Take it easy, Sparky,” she teased lightly, “We’ve got _plenty_ of time. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night, don’t you?”

Tommy’s head flopped back down against the bed and she laughed once more.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, “You need some sleep. You can explore all you want tomorrow.”

Tommy cocked one dark brow at her. He was _definitely_ going to hold her to that.

** Lyrics from the Song: **

_Whisper_ by Chase Rice


End file.
